Just Open Your Eyes
by Schrodinger's Cate
Summary: So, you're mute. Your best friend is a wanna-be knight. You're a seven year old boy, pretending to be a nun. The year is 1464. Good luck, Klaus. You'll need it. -Just Open Your Eyes is an almost historically accurate tale of a young boy of odd circumstance questioning his planned fate, and discovering himself... All prompted by a crazy kid he met in his increasingly vivid dreams-


**A/N: Ah, yes, a new story by yours truly. This is a side project I just randomly decided to do. No idea when I will update, if I'm being honest.**

 **Now, let me express some very important things to know about this story-**

 **The main character is 2P! Prussia** **, who is mute in my headcanon. There will be no magical bullshit that will turn his disability into a cutesy little character trait. However, I will give him his own internal dialogue, in the form of italicized thoughts.**

 **As mentioned in the title, I am trying to be somewhat historically accurate with this time period.** ** _Mostly._** **I do want to have some fun, ya know? Which you will see in this chapter. The accuracies will mostly be with details sometimes overlooked: clothing, weaponry, schedules, etc. Any inaccuracies spotted (that arent obviously done on purpose) can very well be brought to my attention. I might fix them, I might not. (oh, and if anyone is for some reason offended by how Catholic this story will be, please dont bother messaging me about your hurt feelings. It's super Catholic because of the time period. I'm not even Catholic myself, so.)**

 **There will be NO main character romantic relationships in this story. If that's what you're into, sorry pal. I'm focusing on friendship and how incredible of a bond that is with this story. I think it's important to portray friends, and just friends. There's no need for someone to get with someone else in EVERY story. But that's just my opinion, I'm not here to fight people over it.**

 **Now, I thinks that's just about all I have to say! For those still with me on this, I'm proud to admit that I am very excited to try and correctly portray a mute character, and write a story where a mute character is the MAIN character. Especially 2P! Prussia, I love his character, because it's just as unique and interesting as his 1P! counterpart.**

 **Anyway, I'm going to stop rambling now.**

 **Enjoy~**

 _ **Ch. 1 Unconventional Convent**_

Little bouts of moonlight shone through a decorated window, illuminating a well worn, well read book. The flickering candle set upon a desk secured the job further. A woman cloaked in a rough, black habit leaned over the book, running her finger across the delicate page.

"... Proverbs, 3:5... Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding." She murmured, words pooling out over her lips like a slow, sweet syrup. "Proverbs, 3:6... In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." She finished the verses together, pulling apart their meaning within her honed mind, before continuing on to the next verse. "Proverbs, 3:7... Be not wise in thine own eyes-..."

Her somewhat shadowed eyes dared to move away from the pages of scripture, distracted by the sound of approaching footsteps. She counted down in her head, almost sarcastic in manner. However, she was correct, for the knock sounded upon the wooden door just ahead of her simple desk just as she reached the final number in her mind.

"Abbess Waldburga?" The nun behind the door addressed her, voice naturally soft and silky.

"Yes, Sister? What is it you need?" Well practiced in such a field, the slight irritation that sparked behind the closed door was well hidden from the abbess' voice.

The knob of the door turned, and forth from the small crack made in the entrance peeked a young woman. "Abbess, you have a guest. A small family, at the gates. They request your presence specifically."

"What did you say? Freja, speak up, I can't hear you." The abbess rose immediately despite her claims, changing her words to mean something more akin to 'I don't believe you' as she walked herself towards the door.

Freja stood back a few steps, allowing the abbess to prop the door open wider. She cleared her throat, and repeated herself. "Guests, for you, Abbess. At the gate." Freja internally scolded her peers for making her deliver this message... It was too late into the night to be handling such ridiculous issues as this. She shrunk back even further when the Abbess' dull eyes hardened upon the understanding of her words.

Waldburga allowed a small sigh to drain from her nose, turning her head to peer back at her study. The bible upon her desk had not moved, the verses had not changed. Frustration prickled along her weathered skin; being interrupted during her verses was perhaps one of the greatest insults she could imagine. It was simply quite rude and disrespectful. Not to mention, it was incredibly unusual. Guests had come many times during the night, during her study, but she had only ever dealt with them herself a pitiful handful of times. So for her to be requested specifically... It brought her mind back to the very verses that she had been reading just moments before.

Freja waited patiently for the abbess to stop delaying her negative response, but she almost frowned as her eyes witnessed something change in the mind of the abbess. "We are here to serve the people as much as we serve Him. God declares it so," The abbess stated, her tone barely a whisper to avoid disturbing others. "I believe God himself is leading my hand..." The abbess trailed off, and began to move away without so much as a word more. Freja watched her go, curiosity becoming a ghost in her mind.

...

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son..." The words trailed along the lips of an unseen face.

Robin eggs, captive within white cloth, stained by a deep abyss at their very core, snapped open. They took in all the sights before them, ever inquisitive and alert, ever trapped as servants to a young boy who claimed them as his own eyes.

And what they saw now, they could hardly translate to the boy they served. The sun burned bright on a horizon not marred by trees, blanketing everything within its haze in an ethereal light.

The boy, however, was showered in an image of heaven, a scene of the Virgin Mary and her son, resting among lambs and lions. There was no stained glass that could have projected this pristine picture, no, for before him stood only a bloodied man nailed upon a gnarly wooden cross. He wore nothing but a cloth 'round his waist, and the blood that oozed from his wounds like sap from a pine. Golden locks of hair draped around his face, caressing the skin of his cheeks in the kindest way they could manage.

The boy could tell, this man was nothing more than a filthy heretic. He had no sorrow for whoever this was, he felt no pity. Dressed in the light of a holy scene, the boy found himself staring at the prisoner of sin. He found himself meeting the other's gaze as the man raised his head, his body strained against its own weight.

"Son," he whispered. His lips moved again, but whatever he was about to say was consumed just as the man's body was. A vicious fire had leapt up from the bottom of the cross, devouring the screams, the cries, the blood of the subject within its body of flames.

"... That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." The boy jumped, finally breaking his gaze away from the man before him. He turned to look at the one who had spoken, somewhat shocked to find another child, another boy, standing next to him. Though faded, one could see the dry, cracked riverbed left behind on the new boy's cheeks.

"Kinda sucks, huh?" He asked abruptly, breaking away from the scripture he had previously been reciting. "They killed him before he had a chance to speak."

...

"Klaus." A firm hand shook the sleeping child, stirring him awake. "Klaus, come on, it's time to go."

Klaus opened his eyes, giving them a moment to focus on the face above him. His mother shook him one last time, a small smile on her face, before she stood and pulled her son up as well.

Klaus yawned his sleep away as best as he could, but he only seemed to attract it right back. He slumped over in posture, rolling his eyes as his mother tilted his head up to face her. "Klaus, none of this. You knew we were going to get up at this time, I told you to get to bed earlier tonight. So come on, your father is waiting."

Klaus was tugged along by his mother, through the tight hall and towards the door. He studied the walls, dancing with the glow of candles, then he looked over his mother's own thick hair, enchanted by the warm color and mystifying density.

Once outside, his father gestured for both of them to climb into the back of the wagon. The mule that would be pulling this wagon scuffed its hooves across the ground, somewhat upset at this night time trip.

With one hand gripping a lantern, Klaus' father used his other to pull the boy up into the back of the wagon, where he promptly sat down and leaned against the sides of the structure.

Chuckling, his father ran a hand through Klaus' long, pale hair. He looked to his wife, giving her a hand into the wagon as well, before muttering, "I hope this works out, Evelin..." He pressed a kiss to her hand, then turned and jumped over the side of the wagon. He pulled on the mule's lead, clicking his tongue, and driving the beast forward.

"It will, John," Evelin replied, gathering up her child in her arms. She pressed her own kiss to the boy's cheek, laughing at the way he protested by wiping it off instantly. "God wills it, I know." She hugged Klaus tighter, and kissed him again, though on the top of his head this time. Klaus sighed, linking his arms around his mother's neck. He smiled up at her, showing off a few missing teeth.

Evelin grinned, releasing her son gently, but still holding him in her arms. "Go on, Klaus, go back to sleep. We won't be there for a while."

Klaus wiggled in his mother's grasp, shaking his head. He snuck free, and caught a second wind of energy all of a sudden. Rushing over to the opposite side of the wagon, he watched the world slowly go by.

...

The abbess reached the door which would lead her to the appropriate gate, given that she was provided the correct destination. Through it she went, a guarded candle in her hands. Her feet trailed over a path of stones, the gentle light dancing away from the candle to reveal crops and decor alike. She paused for a moment, coincidentally next to a mossy stone angel who was bowed in prayer. Listening to something distant, the abbess took a deep breath, set down her candle, then went on again.

She arrived at the wrought gate, and undid the latch holding it tightly shut. Swinging it only partly open, she stepped forth, and glanced around. She saw a humble wagon drawn by a mule just ahead of her, and a man standing near. He bowed his head to her, before leaning over the side of the wagon to gather something up. It appeared that his wife was joining him, and the abbess realized that perhaps this was not what she had expected.

"I'm sorry, dears." She called out. "But if you would like food, you'll have to come with the rest of the crowd tomorrow morning, we don't give out at such times like this," The abbess turned to go back within the gate, somewhat disappointed at her lack of judgment.

"No, no!" The man yelled back, leaning back from the wagon with a child now in his arms. "We are not here for food, Abbess! Please, hear our words."

The abbess paused, narrowing her eyes. "Speak, then, son."

Stepping forwards, with his wife by his side, John turned the face of his son towards the nun. "We have brought an offering, in the name of God. A daughter to dedicate to the Church." Setting Klaus down, the boy glanced up at his father with an unsure face, his lips turned down and eyes wide.

The abbess, now confused, stepped forwards. "My son, don't you think that this isn't the appropriate time to offer up a daughter? Especially at this age, she is much to young to..." Kneeling down, the abbess squinted at the child, who shied away from her unintentionally harsh look. "Daughter?" She repeated, standing again. Now, anger flared on her tongue. "That is no daughter, you must be daft! That is a boy, I can see it in his eyes. Deathly shame on both of you, for lying on holy soil." Her words sent both of Klaus' parents to look away in shame. A queasy feeling arose in both of them, this was not working out how they had planned. They had grown their son's hair long in the hopes of placing him under the guise of a girl, so that perhaps this transition would be easier.

"Son, what is your name?" Though the tone of her voice had lessened, the intensity of her gaze had not, and Klaus could only stare up at the abbess with wide eyes. After a few moments of silence, the abbess kneeled again. "Child, your name." She stated again, looking right into Klaus' wary face. The boy raised his lip in a fearful sneer, drawing back from this interrogation.

The abbess glanced up towards his father, and demanded, "Why will he not answer me?"

Klaus' father swallowed his anxiety, and replied, "He cannot speak, Abbess." Upon the look of incredulity he received, John went on. "By God's good word, I swear to you that my boy has no voice. It is why we brought him here. We believe it is a gift from God himself, for he can speak no evil; his tongue cannot lie like we can."

The abbess drew herself up, even more incredulous than before. "But if he cannot speak a lie, can he speak a prayer?" John appeared confused, about to reply, but was silenced by the abbess. "No more of this, my son. This convent cannot take him, and you know this very well. He is not of age, and he was not born a girl. If you want him to become a servant of God and God only, wait until he can chose for himself to become a monk. I will hear no more of this... I bid my farewell." With that, the abbess turned and entered the gate, locking it securely behind her.

John clenched his fists tightly, a frown ruining his usually kind features. "If he is not to be a servant of God, then what? Tell me, Abbess, who shall he be?" The yell took the abbess by surprise, and she looked back towards the gate. "Why would his voice have been taken if not to serve a purpose such as this?" John had his hands on the gate now, giving it a bit of a shake. Klaus looked his father over, studying his frustrations and desperation. He pushed on his father's legs, trying to move him away. John hardly took notice of his son, for he simply refused to break his gaze from the abbess. "Please, Daughter of God, help my son find his own way in God."

The abbess locked eyes with Klaus, who had moved now to place his own hands on the gate. He looked tired, and somewhat disgruntled at this whole ordeal. He didn't have a clue what was going on. Slowly, she shook her head. "I cannot, my son. Not like this. Forgive me." Taking a few steps back, the abbess watched the man slump in defeat, beginning to move away. She turned to face the way she was walking, but her legs became caught up beneath her. Her foot became caught on something just off the path, and the abbess fell to the ground with a soft thud and a grunt. Glancing at what had tripped her up, the abbess saw the small, moss covered angel, slumped over similarly to her in the grass. Its gentle face was lit up by the flicker of the abandoned candle.

John craned his neck to see exactly what had happened to the abbess, calling out, "Are you quite alright?" Even his

The answer he got was most unexpected: "What is his name?"

"I beg your pardon?" John blinked a few times.

"His name. What is it?" The abbess replied, picking herself up and dusting off traces of leaves and dirt.

"Klaus." John replied. His heart began to lift, he could feel a sudden serenity as if a battle had been won. "His name is Klaus."

"Klaus, mm. A good name." The abbess nodded to herself. She strode back over to the gate, opening it with a single hand. Waldburga studied the faces of the people before her, her own gaze even and steady. Leaning down, she brought Klaus' chin up with a single finger. "God is guiding my hand. Even though I do not understand it, I must let him act through me." She murmured, and John shuddered at the faintness of her voice.

"We will take him in," the abbess said without another moment wasted. She stood tall, and took Klaus by the hand. "And I will judge God's will as best I can. But I cannot guarantee the fate of this child," she warned, but John only nodded. "We understand. We will give him to God and pray that he fulfills his fate." The abbess nodded. "So be it. Say goodbye, for he will belong to only the convent by sunrise."

Evelin came to stand behind John, eyes glimmering. She didn't speak a word, but raised a hand and wiggled her fingers at her son. The bright smile on her face shivered delicately as her son copied her action, genuine and well aware of the meaning. Klaus trend to do the same for his father, but a deep embrace cut him short. "Study the Word well, son." John whispered, and Klaus nodded as best as he could. Breaking away from the hug, he dragged his hand through the air, a determined look on his forever tired face. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he hoped that his meaning would be understood.

"Very good," the abbess affirmed. "And thank you, as well..." Her hand latched the gate shut once more, locking Klaus and herself within, and the parents of the boy out. "Come on, then," She took Klaus' hand, beginning to lead him away. Klaus followed willingly, forcing back the wealth of emotions that haunted his inner voice.

Something off caught his eye, and he halted their travel. The abbess was about to ask exactly what the boy was up to, but she stopped herself, being able to see it. Klaus struggled with the small angel lost in the grass, barely managing to shove it back into its rightful spot. Once again, the weathered statue could eternally send its prayers, rather than stare into the mud and serve as a tent for beetles.

The abbess hmmed, taking in Klaus' actions with a glimmer of wonder. "Good, Klaus. Very good. Now come along."

Klaus yawned, raking a hand over his eyes, before continuing after the woman who apparently could decide people's fates. What a wild thing that was...

He nearly walked right into the woman as they approached the door. She was taking her time to unlock it and open it up for the two of them. Klaus glanced back towards the gate, catching on last glimpse of his father as the door creaked open.

 _'I guess I'll give it my best,'_ he thought, and then was ushered into the darkened building.


End file.
